don't call this a fairy tale
by Elisabeth
Summary: Lily Rivera Corinthos tells her story. It's a lot of things, but it's not a fairy tale.


**...don't call this a fairy tale**  
  
  
This is a story.   
  
This is a story she tells.   
  
Sometimes she thinks it's the only story she knows. Other times, she thinks she knew more, once. Maybe it's just that this one is the only one left.   
  
This is her story. She wishes it weren't.  
*******************  
  
Once upon a time... _(('cause isn't that how it has to start? aren't those the **rules**? and she knows what happens to little girls who don't play by the rules, oh yes, she knows))_ ...once upon a time there was. There was a girl.  
  
And, she **was** a girl, the girliest girl. Young and pretty and frilly dresses and sweet, sweeter, sweetest flowers in her hair. Daddy's girl, Daddy's only girl, Daddy's best girl. For a very long time, that was all in the whole wide world she wanted to be.  
  
Until it wasn't, anymore.   
  
Until she started to feel like something owned instead of something loved. Until Daddy became someone to run from instead of to. Until she looked down and all her pretty dresses had become prison garb overnight, and she realized that what she wanted more than anything, more than Daddy, was to be free.   
  
Freedom carries it's own price. How could she have known that? What prices had she ever had to pay in all her years learning to be...decorative?   
  
The piper came calling; pipers always do. And, she lost her best, her brightest, her black-eyed boy. A price beyond measure.  
  
It broke her, of course. Barely out of girlhood, thrust into an ill-formed womanhood, never prepared for any of it. No mother to teach her women can be strong, too. Wings singed, she flew back to Daddy, to the only haven she had ever known, safe or un-. Broken, older, his.   
  
She had Learned her Lesson. She Knew her Place. She was Daddy's Girl. And, whenever she wanted something else, something more, she pushed it far, far down. Wanting burns, wanting breaks. Wanting wasn't worth the price.  
  
So she went back to her life, or what passed for it. Went back to once upon a time' and happily ever after'. Donned her prison garb, and smiled so sweet, and never even tried the lock on the door.   
  
And, that was the way it was. For a long time and forever, that was the way it was.   
  
Then. One. Day.   
  
**_He_** was.   
  
He was, oh, how he was. A dark flame, larger than life. Her eyes met his, and wanting flowered deep and sly all over again, and it didn't even matter what he saw when he looked at her. Her wanting was big enough for the both of them.   
  
This time, she told herself, this time she could pay the price. She knew what it was, and love wasn't ever the point. _((wasn't it, she thinks now, knowing so much better, oh, wasn't it?))_  
  
When the piper came calling, she walked boldly to meet him, hands outstretched. She made her deal, sealed it done. Her eyes were clear.   
  
Daddy kissed her once with lips that burned and gave her his blessing, and she stepped out of her father's house and into his. And, if he dreamed of someone else, it didn't matter because dreams weren't real anyway were they?, and when he woke, he woke to her.  
  
Safe in his house, she wove a spell _((wasn't this a fairy tale? wasn't he her princeprizeprince))_, the only spell she ever learned in all her years being Daddy's Girl. Strand by strand, she wove and made herself into what he needed, if not what he wanted. His, she made herself, His Girl, always there, never questioning, soft dresses and sweet smiles and gentle caresses in the night. And, still...and still...  
  
So, she offered him gifts, all laid out like bright, shining pearls. She gave him Home, and she bound her feet tight. Peace, and she cut out her tongue. Love, and she lay her heart at his feet. He took all she offered, like it was his due, and still when he looked at her, it wasn't her image she saw reflected in his eyes.   
  
But.   
  
Wasn't this the price? Hadn't she **agreed**? Shaken hands and sealed with a kiss. Her eyes were clear. Her eyes were. Her eyes...  
  
Saw too clearly. Saw the bargain she'd made. Saw him, finally, finally, finally, and what he could never give. What she'd always, always wanted. What she'd kissed away when the piper stretched out his hand. What she, who she was without him. Without anyone.   
  
She had only one gift left to give, and he wasn't worth it. And so she flew _((clock's striking midnight, cinderella. fly away, ladybug, fly away home))_ from him and her own mirror as fast as she could fly. Daddy's home wasn't what she wanted, but this time she had finally learned her lesson about wanting.   
  
Only he came after her. Knelt at her feet and offered her the only kind of glass slipper that mattered. And, she took it because this time, this time, oh, this time when he looked at her, she have sworn he saw her, whole and true.  
  
It was everything she'd always wanted, to be **seen**, to be **wanted**. Prices didn't matter. She danced with the piper. She had her prince, and he had her, and finally, finally she gave him her last gift.   
  
Two lives, both hers to give, given carefully to his keeping. The only gifts she had left, and she placed them both in his hands, closed his fingers softly, and smiled.   
  
He dropped them.   
  
Kissed her soft and let her, them, go. Up in flames, they went, and this time, it wasn't just her wings that got burnt. This time, this time, this time.... There was no more time.  
  
This was not the price she bargained for.   
**************  
  
This is a story.   
  
This is a story she tells.   
  
It's the one story she knows, and she tells it over and over, hoping someone will hear. He comes, kneels at her feet, talks to her like she's listening. She whispers her story but all he hears is his own words, echoing in his head. And, no one else is listening.   
  
This is her story this is her story this is...   
  
This is a story.   
  
Just don't call it a fairy tale.   
***************


End file.
